


None more so than man

by anita58straycat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Anal Sex, Dean Winchester/Castiel - Freeform, Episode: s11e09 O Brother Where Art Thou, Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Human Lucifer (Supernatural), If You Squint - Freeform, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, POV Lucifer (Supernatural), POV Sam Winchester, Rimming, Sort Of, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anita58straycat/pseuds/anita58straycat
Summary: Sam is in the Cage with Lucifer, when Rowena and Crowley come to the rescue with a proposition. Lucifer will inhabit his former vessel, improved by the Book of the Damned to contain him without combusting and without Nick's soul, now in Heaven. His grace will however be bound. To Sam, more specifically, who'll choose whether to release him before the final battle against Amara. Life in the Bunker will have to change to make room for a newly human Devil, but between hunts, Disney movies and books of poetry, Lucifer may be able to change himself as well.





	1. Angry, and half in love with you

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! :) So, this is my first BigBang, of any kind. Well, MiniBang really, but I'm quite happy with the word count. I've never written as much, and I'm glad I did it for one of my favourite pairings.  
> I would like to thank my beta, Silvia, for reading this and giving her input: it's been much appreciated :)  
> And a very special thanks goes to the very talented Coco-mint who's drawn not one, but two truly wonderful fanarts for this fic, which you will find in chapters 4 and 8. They're lovely, hon. Thank you! I love them <3  
> You can find them at Coco-mint's tumblr here: https://coco-mint.tumblr.com/post/166140535557/  
> English isn't my first language, so I apologise in advance for any and all mistakes. I also apologise for the overabundance of cheesy quotes, but at least I know the numerous Jane Austen references will make Silvia proud of me <3  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is taken from the quote: "Angry, and half in love with you, and tremendously sorry, I turned away." - Scott Fitzgerald
> 
> The fic starts in medias res during 11.09, so you'll recognise quotes from that episode.
> 
> POV Sam

* * *

**_"Stop asking me to trust you while I'm still coughing up water from the last time you let me drown."_ **

 

Sam's heart is beating fast, too fast, his breathing getting shallow.

"So, have you thought about it, Sam? Do I have an invitation to look forward to?" Lucifer asks him.

Sam's resolute. He can't, won't say yes again. But he still turns his back on Lucifer, can't look him in the eyes when he denies him. "No. I won’t do it." He is certain they can find another solution, to have Lucifer's knowledge and power, without his having to give up his body and agency. "There has to be another way."

He turns back again and sees the flames surrounding the Cage disappear. Crowley's agitated voice reaches him from a great distance: "What the hell is going on? Why did the warding fail? What’s happening?"

His ears are ringing, he hears faintly, as if from under water, Rowena's voice. "Follow me, Fergus."

He pays it little attention, too focused on the angel before him, stepping back from the bars and beckoning him, arms spread wide.

Between a blink of the eye and the next he is in the Cage, with Lucifer.

"Together again." Lucifer says in a sing-song voice. Panic grips Sam like a vice. This cannot be happening. "Hey, Sam Winchester. Did you miss me? I bet you did."

Sam hadn't missed the fear, the terror, hadn't missed the feeling of hatred and despair not his own poison his soul. But if he is honest with himself, he had missed the warmth of Lucifer's grace, the sense of wholeness, at last, the complete and absolute acceptance of every part of his being. But things have changed. Sam is not that scared, angry little boy anymore. He finds strength in himself. Closes eyes and inhales deeply, shoulders squared.

"I have to say, you’re extraordinarily calm given the circumstances." Lucifer prods, inquisitive.

"Well, it’s pretty much exactly how God told me it was going to be. Guess I just have to go with it and play my hand."

"Well, that would make so much sense if it was God that was doing the talking. You see Sam, when the Darkness descended, the impact on Hell was massive. The Cage was damaged. Through the fissures I was able to reach out." Lucifer says, his back turned as well. Sam wants it to be out of shame or guilt, but now he doesn't know anymore. A terrifying emptiness is making its way in his stomach. Sam's legs threaten to give under his weight, his hands get clammy, bile rising in his throat.

"It wasn’t God inside your head Sam. It was me."

Sam feels hollowed out.

"So you see, he’s not with you. He’s never been with you. It was always... just... me." Lucifer goes on, Cheshire cat's grin on his face. Sam wants to rage, to scream, mostly he wants to cry. "So I...I guess I am your only hope."

Sam's vision blurs, too drained and worn out to try and stop the tears running down his cheeks.

"You promised." He murmurs. An ugly feeling of betrayal clawing at his chest.

Lucifer looks at him for a moment, uncomprehending, but Sam can pinpoint the moment it dawns on him, because he suddenly looks like he has just been slapped.

"You promised you wouldn't trick me." Sam cries out, hands clenched into fists, anger and hurt bubbling up in his throat and demanding to be heard. "And I believed you..." He says on an exhale.

"Sammy..." The Devil whispers, taking a step forward and reaching out to him. Sam flinches and Lucifer takes his hand back as if burned.

"In the vision, when you touched me, I felt so calm. You really played me." And there is no mistaking the bitterness in his voice.

Lucifer's eyes widen at this last confession, filling with something akin to hope.

"Sam. In the visions... I can make you see things, but I cannot make you _feel_ things. If you really felt that... it's because you know I mean you no harm."

Sam sneers, but when Lucifer tries again to step closer and cups his jaw, he doesn't back off. "I'm sorry I lied to you. Truly, I am. But you can't leave me here, Sam. Please." And isn't that a sight, the Devil begging for mercy. Sam feels his resolve crack, sentimental fool that he is. Still, he soldiers on.

"I know it means nothing to you now, but for what it's worth, I am sorry. I'm sorry you let envy, and hatred, and pride, twist you into a bitter thing. But I won't say yes to you."

Lucifer looks desperate, miserable. He looks heartbroken. Before he or Sam can say anything, though, Rowena speaks.

"I may be able to offer a solution to our situation here, lads."

Crowley stands beside her, face contorted in a grimace, but with a resigned expression. Sam hears Lucifer inhale sharply and following his gaze he notices a body lying at Crowley's feet. Nick's body.

"I can offer a compromise." Crowley says, flashing red eyes at the Devil. "This is your former vessel. With the help of the Book of the Damned mother can transfer your grace into it, make it durable. You won't need Sammy here anymore."

Sam has to speak up. "What about Nick?" He won't let them chain the poor guy to the Devil again.

"Heaven." Crowley answers. "This is but a empty body." Sam relaxes a little at that, but he can feel Lucifer trembling from tension beside him.

"What's the catch?" Lucifer demands.

"We cannot let you roam free at full power until the fight with Amara draws near. But we may use your knowledge before then. Travel to such a low level of Hell is impractical. We cannot do it every time we need to consult you, and in case of emergency you'll be ready to go." Rowena clears her throat. "And mother demanded it. She _likes_ you." Crowley adds, mouth set in a scowl.

Sam opens his mouth to protest, when Crowley raises his hand in a placating gesture. "Do not worry your pretty head, Sam. Lucifer will stay in the Bunker with you, under your watch. I remember their dungeon. Lovely place!" He tells Lucifer.

"What about his powers? What's to say he won't fly off and start the Apocalypse again, once Amara's defeated?"

"I won't, Sam! I promise you." Lucifer begs him.

Sam turns to him, mockery in his tone to cover the hurt. "Like you promised not to lie to me? No. You're an old dog, and that's your old trick." Lucifer hunches his shoulders, eyes cast down.

"I know how to block his powers. He'll be basically human, and you, Sammy, will be the one to decide when to release them." Sam is intrigued now, but surely... Lucifer would never accept to be rendered the very thing he despises.

"Ok. If Sam's the one in control, then... ok. Do it." Sam whips his head around so fast he feels dizzy for a moment. Lucifer gazes at him, amused and a little sad all at once. "I trust you."

"Ok, lads. Let's get to work."

\---

Rowena demands that Sam give her the grace residue Lucifer has left behind when he had possessed him during the Apocalypse. Sam had hoped, after the whole ordeal with Gadreel, that he wouldn't be subjected to the procedure again, but desperate times and all that. The ritual is simpler than Sam would have thought. Rowena proceeds to bind Lucifer's grace to Sam's, now contained in a vial. When need be, Sam would only have to recite a few words to reverse the spell and break the connection. At that point, Lucifer would only have to unstopper the vial and he'd be graced up again.

Now in the Impala, with a grumbling Dean behind the wheel, and Castiel in the backseat, keeping an eye on Lucifer, chained up even though human (one can never be too careful), Sam feels the vial under his clothes. It is hot against his skin, the grace within emitting a white-blue light. Sam grips it through the fabric of his shirt, to ground himself, and sneaks a glance in the rear-view mirror to the now human Devil. Lucifer, who has been staring with a rapt expression out the window at the road and the sky, feeling observed, turns his head and catches his eye. Instead of resentment or rage, Sam detects only gratitude on Lucifer's face. His lips twitch involuntary, and Lucifer matches him with a smile of his own, before returning to his contemplation of the moving scenery. A sense of calm washes over Sam, he relaxes for the first time since walking into Hell, and lets himself unwind.

There is hope. Maybe things will be alright.

 

**_" _Tell_ me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever _." - Jane Austen__ **

* * *

 


	2. Something like prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the quote: "To love another is something like prayer and it can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief."- Anne Sexton
> 
> POV Sam

* * *

**_"But there’s this space between us, always this space between us." - Richard Siken_ **

****

It had been a long and tiring conversation, but in the end Lucifer had won them over and they had decided there was no immediate danger in releasing him. He is human, after all, with little to no clue how to survive on his own. It is in his interest to remain close to the Winchesters. So, he had argued, it was pointless keeping him chained in the Bunker's dungeon. A little freedom would only make him more amiable and render all their lives a little less complicated, not having to be burdened by the various duties that inevitably befall the guards of a human prisoner, such as preparing and delivering food, accompanying him to the showers and the bathroom when need be and wait for him to finish before returning him to his cell. Dean was tired of the routine, Cas took Dean's side in this particular argument and Sam... Sam wasn't so keen on it at first, but he could see the advantage of not having to deal with the Devil on a daily basis. Before he had to work as his jailer, this way he could dismiss him as an unwanted flatmate.

Now Lucifer is free to roam the Bunker as he pleases, but he mostly keeps to his room, never shares the meals with them, and rarely shows himself in the library, if not for the times when he needs to consult a book, but even then he usually remains only as long as it is necessary in order to take the volume from the shelf, and then he makes his way back to his bedroom, two corridors away from Sam's.

Sam can hear him, roaming the Bunker at night. He still isn't used to the human need to eat and oftentimes forgets about it or postpones it until late in the day, when the other occupants of the Bunker are most likely to be already asleep or together in the Tv room.

There have been a couple of incidents... most notably, the time Dean had found Lucifer in his room, going over his music collection, and threw a fit. Cas had to defuse the situation, shooing Lucifer away and promising Dean a night out, eating burgers and hustling pool. The Devil hadn't been seen nor heard in the next three days, too scared to face Dean's wrath or to prideful to apologise for intruding into his room (and getting caught). The two had nonetheless come to an uneasy truce when they discovered a common appreciation for Led Zeppelin, so there was that.

Sam has sometimes spied on him, trying his hand and failing at cooking, and then cleaning up his mess with urgency, lest Dean find out he had created chaos of what he had declared to be his domain (along with the garage, obviously). He seems to be getting better at it, if the smell, or lack thereof, of burnt food, as of recently, is anything to go by and must be taken as proof of improvement. Sam has also found him one morning, making pancakes with Cas, the two angels united in an odd brotherly bonding ritual, completely covered in flour and with kitchen utensils strewn everywhere. Dean was watching them, an indulgent smile on his face as he observed Cas and instructed him on how to prepare the ingredients correctly.

The two angels had found out very early on in their stay at the Bunker a common love for plants (and animals, but Dean has a very strict policy about turning their home into a shelter for strays and Cas hasn't cracked his resolve as of yet). It had been the first day of Lucifer's new found freedom. It was late in the day when they had finally come to an agreement.

The minute they'd removed the chains from his wrists Lucifer had asked to be let out of the Bunker, claiming he'd been locked inside for far too long, and that he was in desperate need of some fresh air. Sam, suspicious, had followed him outside. As soon as Lucifer had opened the Bunker's door he'd taken a deep breath, opened his arms as if to embrace the night breeze, and taken measured steps toward the field on the other side of the road. He'd collapsed in the grass, arms and legs thrown wide apart, like a starfish (or a snow angel).

Sam had sat down next to him, and just... watched him. They hadn't talked, but stayed silent, for hours, just stayed there watching the stars overhead and listening to the sound of animals in the trees, until sleep had started to claim Sam and his eyelids had begun to droop.

Lucifer had touched him slightly on the knee: "Got to bed, Sammy," he'd whispered.

Sam didn't want to leave him there alone, but he was awfully tired. "Cas'll keep me company and make sure I don't run away, if that's what you're afraid of." And sure enough, Cas made his way to where they were sitting, and sprawled down on Lucifer's other side.

Sam had left them alone after that, heard them talking quietly between themselves before closing the Bunker's door behind him. Even though Sam was knackered, sleep escaped him that night. He told himself he was worried, but the truth was... he kept thinking about Lucifer's face, the pure joy in his eyes when contemplating the nature surrounding them, and how it had made him look soft and vulnerable.

After that night out together, Cas and Lucifer had started to form a relationship and had claimed the Bunker's greenhouse, where Sam was used to grow the plants necessary for the most common spells, for themselves and transformed it into their little botanical project. Now a vast array of plants and flowers from all over the world grew there, colourful and fragrant, and could be found in various rooms, beautifully arranged in vases. Whether it was Cas's or Lucifer's doing no one knew.

All in all, after the first month, Lucifer seems to have integrated himself in the Bunker's life quite well, even establishing rapports with its other occupants. He still is extra careful only towards Sam. If he happens to stroll somewhere already occupied by the hunter he always beats a hasty retreat, if Sam comes into a room where the Devil is, he immediately becomes skittish, starts fidgeting and if Sam doesn't walk out soon after, he is known to leave in a hurry, eyes cast down. If they pass each other in the corridors, Lucifer, very careful not to touch him, strides quickly past him. It is getting to Sam's nerves, if he is honest. So one day, after one such occurrence, he confronts Lucifer about it.

"Listen to me." He says forcefully. "I'm sick and tired of seeing you scurry away like a trapped animal every time we are in the same room together, like I'm the one you should be afraid of. I don't have time for this, you playing the victim, so quit it." Honestly, Lucifer is behaving as if he has something to fear from Sam. What is he thinking? That now he is human, Sam is gonna corner him and take out his frustrations on him, like a punching bag?

"Sam, I wasn't trying to. I just... didn't think you wished to be in my presence." The Devil replies, hands raised in a placating gesture.

Sam opens his mouth to bite out a retort along the lines of: "You're right, I don't!" But makes himself stop, takes a deep breath instead. He'll be the better man, and he will get to the bottom of this.

"So let me get this straight. You're behaving like this in some misguided attempt to, what, be nice to me?" He snorts.

"Essentially... yes." At the sight of what is most likely a look of derision on Sam's face, for the hunter is feeling like laughing at the bold faced lie, Lucifer is quick to add: "I know you don't like having me here, so I'm trying to stay out of your hair as best as I can."

"Well, stop! It's irritating." It's not like Sam wishes for his company, not at all. But it is becoming a matter of principle. "I'm not some delicate flower. I can handle myself, and you, just fine."

Lucifer looks at him, a little smirk on his face. Sam thinks back on his words and immediately feels heat rising on his cheeks. God, Lucifer is more similar to his big brother than Sam is comfortable acknowledging. His grin also conjures images in Sam's brain he doesn't really want to contemplate, thank you very much.

"Whatever." He scoffs, and this time, it is he the one running off in embarrassment. "Don't you leave a room again in my presence!" He throws over his shoulder, and sees Lucifer mock-saluting him before the hunter disappears around a corner.

\---

Not even a week later Sam comes to regret his decision to forbid the Devil from walking away. He knew it was gonna come back and bite him in the ass in some way, but he didn't think it was gonna be in such a spectacular proportion. Like Dean would say: _Karma is a bitch_.

He is taking a shower in the Bunker's communal bathroom, when he hears the door open. Since it is the middle of the afternoon he doesn't pay it much attention, gathering it is Dean come to wash himself after spending the day in the garage with Cas, teaching him how to change tires and some such things (that basically amounts to flirting in his brother's book, so Sam always makes sure to steer clear of the garage when they seclude themselves in it for a lesson about the correct way to repair engines or something or other). He doesn't bother checking and keeps rinsing shampoo out of this hair without a care in the world for his nudity. Nothing Dean hasn't seen a thousand times already.

When at last he opens his eyes, though, he makes an undignified noise at the vision of Lucifer, naked but for a towel draped precariously around his waist, watching him from the doorway. As soon as he is caught staring, he flashes Sam a shit-eating grin and steps forward. The movement makes Sam unfreeze and he hastily closes his mouth and most importantly covers himself with his hands, realizing only too late that he has let the Devil gaze at him in his baby suit for a good two minutes.

"Oh, do not stop on account of me, Sammy!" The Devil says, smug smirk firmly in place.

"What the hell are you doing here? Don't you know how to knock?" It comes out awfully high-pitched.

"I was raised in heaven, Sam, no such things as doors there." Lucifer says in a sing-song voice. The bastard.

"Well, why did you stay when you saw I---" And then Sam stutters to a halt. "Oh."

"Oh, indeed." Lucifer replies, and makes a show of sauntering in the stall next to Sam's and dropping his towel with a flamboyant flick of this wrist.

Sam immediately averts his gaze, but not before getting an eyeful of Lucifer's body under it. Nick hadn't been a particularly muscular man, he probably didn't visit the gym all that often, judging by his slightly rounded belly - and _Sam, please, don't look further_ , the hunter tells himself, squeezing his eyes briefly shut, before raising them once again and fixing them firmly on a point in the middle distance, over the Devil's right shoulder.

He has to admit, reluctantly, that he is well-built, with broad shoulders and chest, and strong arms. He makes a pretty imposing figure. _Perhaps_ , Sam reasons, _he gives this impression because he is a former archangel, and some of his power still shows in his bearing, in the way he carries himself, prideful and unashamed_.

Sam shakes his head, spraying droplets of water around like a dog. He keeps letting himself get sidetracked by distracting thoughts. He only hopes the redness of his cheeks will be interpreted as the result of the water's heat and not his embarrassment. Judging from Lucifer's expression he doesn't have much hope for the former. He wishes a hole would open under his feet and swallow him whole. And he is still stark naked!

He scuffles quickly out of the stall in search for the towel he had taken with him, but can't find it anywhere. _Where the hell has he left it?_ This is a nightmare.

When he turns around he once again becomes aware of Lucifer, head tilted and tongue darting out of his mouth to moisten his lips. When he notices Sam has caught him in the act, he gives him a wide-eyed, innocent look, as if he hadn't been staring at his ass the minute before. He grabs his towel and in a show of obviously fake contrition and politeness offers it to Sam, eyes downturned. Sam can still see a small smile playing on his lips. Oh, how he hates him. He yanks the towel from the Devil's hands, drapes it hastily around his waist and flees, but not sooner than Lucifer can yell after him: "hate to see you go..."

Before exiting the bathroom, Sam throws one last murderous glare in Lucifer's direction and sees him shamelessly giving him a once over. He slams the door shut after him.

If the next day, in the showers, he accidentally forgets to lock the door, which would avoid another intrusion, and feels the need to get one off and in doing so, he finds himself picturing wet tiles, smooth skin and piercing blue eyes following him across a room...well, no one needs to know.

\---

After The-Incident-That-Must-Not-Be-Named, life in the Bunker proceeds more or less smoothly, and the four of them can often be found together in the kitchen or the library behaving for the most part civilly towards one another. Lucifer and Dean are known to get on each other's nerves from time to time, but are usually chastised by Cas and brought back in line with little fuss. But after weeks of being cooped up together, with no sign of Amara and no clue on how to defeat her, the boys decide it will benefit them all to start hunting again on a regular basis and not content themselves anymore with the odd case near home.

At first only Sam and Dean leave the Bunker, but after a while, mostly because Cas wants to start his "training" again, and Lucifer can't be left alone, the two angels begin to accompany them on their hunts. Nothing fancy, at first, ghosts and witches mostly; Dean and Sam are the team in charge of the action, while Cas and Lucifer do research. With time the dynamic begins to shift, though, in order to better suit their respective abilities and get the job done faster and more smoothly. Lucifer has an inner talent for charming his way in and out of every situation, not so useful with monsters that want to kill you, but extremely helpful when they need information. And Cas... Cas is really starting to grow into his hunter persona. He's always been a formidable warrior, but he had some difficulty adjusting to his new existence not at full power. That is probably one of the reasons he and Lucifer have bonded so much and so quickly: they have found common ground in getting used to the human way of life, and all that it entails, though some things still baffle them, which amuses Dean and Sam to no end.

But Sam is also keenly aware of what a toll it must be for Lucifer. If even Cas, always on humanity's side, is finding it difficult to adjust, Sam cannot imagine what it is like for Lucifer to be turned into the thing he hates most. He isn't going to give him his grace back, though, not yet. He has started to implicitly trust him again, fool that he is, but he wants to be sure Lucifer won't betray him again as soon as he is back to his full power.

There are quite moments between them, in the downtime between hunts, when everything feels rather... domestic. Sam doesn't want to get used to it, he really can't. Not with their job, and the threat of Amara still looming so close. But if he and Lucifer can set aside their past and build something, even if it is still new and so very fragile, then there is still hope. If he can look at the Devil, and not see an enemy anymore, but an ally, maybe even something else, something _more_ , there is a good chance things will turn out ok.

 

**_"Won’t we be quite the pair? You with your bad heart, me with my bad head." - Therese Anne Fowler_ **

* * *

 


	3. Each day a flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the poem by Pablo Neruda "If you forget me":  
> "But  
> if each day,  
> each hour,  
> you feel that you are destined for me  
> with implacable sweetness,  
> if each day a flower  
> climbs up to your lips to seek me,  
> ah my love, ah my own,  
> in me all that fire is repeated,  
> in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,  
> my love feeds on your love, beloved,  
> and as long as you live it will be in your arms  
> without leaving mine."
> 
> POV Lucifer

* * *

**_“He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand.” - Richard Siken_ **

****

Lucifer has been scrubbing madly at a stain on his favourite t-shirt going 20 minutes now, but the blot just _won't go away_.

He's bought it on his first trip outside the Bunker. He remembers that day fondly. It had been only Castiel and himself. Dean and Sam had been away on a hunt not far from home and the two angels had seized the opportunity to spend time together, just the two of them. Castiel had been a little unsure at first, but in the end leaving Lucifer alone in the Bunker was a far worse idea than taking him along on his trip to the mall, so go shopping they did: the pantry was empty and they needed to survive for however long Sam and Dean required to finish the hunt. Castiel couldn't just let his brother starve.

Castiel drives them to the nearest shopping centre and the adventure begins. First of all Castiel decides Lucifer needs clothes. For the past two weeks he's been stealing them from Sam's wardrobe. They're the only ones that fit him, even though they still remain a little too long, and tight on his shoulders and chest. Plus, Lucifer likes how they smell, so he's not too eager to acquire some of his own, but at the same time he's kind of thrilled at the thought of choosing something for himself.

After two hours the angels leave the store with two bags each: Lucifer has been irremovable and insisted his brother buy new clothes as well, more flattering and practical than Jimmy's suit. The former angel, on his part, is very proud of his purchase, consisting of three new pair of trousers, four Winchesters' style plaid shirt, boots, and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt which he secretly hopes Dean would approve and be envious of.

After that, they make a quick stop to a diner where Castiel introduces him to the wonderful inventions that are pancakes with strawberry syrup and M&Ms. Lucifer thinks that if humans have been capable of creating something as sinfully delicious as that, not all hope is lost for them.

Their next stop is the supermarket. Lucifer doesn't enjoy grocery shopping as much as he did searching for clothes. Moms with whining children are clogging the aisles, the music station that's blasting from the speakers is not one he likes, and the chart's wheels don't go where he wants them to. They mostly buy frozen food, that they can microwave later, neither of them able to cook something more elaborate than a sandwich. They buy ingredients to bake pancakes, though, and go home satisfied of a day well spent.

A couple of days later, Lucifer's in the kitchen, trying his hand at cooking when Cas comes to his aid, and only worsens their situation. Neither of them has the natural ability of Dean (when he decides to make the effort), and incredibly, for two beings who have knowledge of the very fabric of the universe, they are utterly incapable of following a simple recipe. They're in the middle of a particularly ferocious battle against the pan that insists on burning their pancakes, when they hear footsteps approaching and freeze like deer caught in headlights. If Dean finds them, his kitchen, like this, he'll have them flagged.

They turn around slowly, postponing their doom, even if only by a few seconds, and come face to face with the hunter. But as soon as Dean sees their faces covered in flour and dough, he bursts out laughing, pointing at them with tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks, and the angels know they're "safe", this time at least.

When he's finished chuckling and taking pictures (for blackmail purposes), he puts on an apron and helps them clean up their mess, and then they get to work. Later in the shower, Lucifer finds residues of dough even in his hair, and his and Castiel's clothes end up in the washing machine. The pancakes though, taste divine.

He remembers the experiment fondly, and it serves to momentarily distract him from the dirt that doesn't want to go away. But when he glances down and sees the stain on the wings of Icarus printed on the front, he scowls and starts scrubbing even faster.

He's so focused on his task that he doesn't even notice he's not alone in the laundry room, until a hand gently encircles his wrist and startles him, making him stop his tedious and fruitless task. A shiver travels down Lucifer's spine, and his stomach does a little flip flop, sensations he's come to associate with Sam. When Sam is near, or touches him, whenever he even thinks about the hunter, Lucifer grows warm and content. That day in the showers... it has taken him a long time to stop picturing Sam's sculpted body every time he closes his eyes. Now he's so close he can spot the flecks of green in his hazel eyes.

"Let me take a look at that." He pries the t-shirt out of Lucifer's fingers, grins a little when he sees exactly what it is: "can't believe Dean hasn't stolen it from you yet."

Lucifer throws an affronted look his way: "he would never... he knows how much I like it."

Sam glances at him and shakes his head, laughing a little. "Figures you'd like the same bands. He must be happy at least one angel in this Bunker shares his music taste."

"It's a good music taste," Lucifer replies, haughty. Honestly, he doesn't understand how Castiel can listen to Cristina Aguilera, when Dean has a collection of classic rock to die for.

"How did you stain it?" Sam asks and Lucifer explains: Dean wants him and Castiel to know the basics of car repair, and he's teaching them in the Bunker's garage. Lucifer was tinkering with one of the cars, when he saw he had stained his shirt with motor oil and immediately run to remedy the disaster. "And I've been here since, but I can't get it clean," he pouts.

Sam appears thoughtful for a moment, before standing up and leaving the room. He returns soon after with salt, rubbing alcohol and a bottle of vinegar. Lucifer's confusion must show clearly on his face, because Sam reassures him: "These are home-made remedies to remove grease from clothes. Let's try with salt first, maybe it'll prove as effective against motor oil as it does against ghosts."

"As long as you don't salt and burn it," Lucifer jokes and looks at him work in fascination. After a couple of minutes, miracle of miracles, the stain seems to disappear. "You did it, Sammy!"

Sam chuckles and pours the vinegar on the print as well, shrugs: "Just to be sure." He scrubs for a while and then puts the t-shirt in the washing machine, rubs his hands on his trousers and sits back down next to Lucifer, who's fixing the t-shirt getting soaped through the little window. "Now we wait."

They don't talk, just sit in companionable silence, Lucifer basking in Sam's presence. They catch each other's eyes from time to time, before they both hastily look away. A couple of times Lucifer sees Sam watch his bare chest from the corner of his eye. He should feel self conscious, but the look on the hunter's face, the blush Lucifer spots on his cheeks, makes him feel anything but. It's a nice feeling, like any other feeling Sam arouses in him.

They smell a little like vinegar and cleaning products, and the floor is strewn with stuff that should belong in the kitchen, but Lucifer's happy.

He's even happier when he takes the tee out and it's clean as the day he bought it. Happier still when Sam sees it and smiles his megawatt smile. All in all, not a bad day at all. 

 

**_“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.” - Jane Austen_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shirt in question is the Icarus one from the 1975 tour.


	4. A fearful thing, a holy thing, a human thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter you'll find the first amazing art by Coco-mint.  
> I have to thank you again honey, for this wonderful piece, so beautifully drawn. I love the feeling of intimacy that comes from it. Thank you <3 
> 
> The chapter draws inspiration from episode 11.17.
> 
> Chapter title from this poem by Yehuda HaLevi:  
> "‘Tis a fearful thing  
> to love what death can touch.  
> A fearful thing  
> to love, to hope, to dream, to be –  
> to be,  
> And oh, to lose.  
> A thing for fools, this,  
> And a holy thing,  
> a holy thing  
> to love.  
> For your life has lived in me,  
> your laugh once lifted me,  
> your word was gift to me.  
> To remember this brings painful joy.  
> ‘Tis a human thing, love,  
> a holy thing, to love  
> what death has touched."
> 
> POV Lucifer

* * *

**“ _You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope._ ” - _Jane Austen_**

 

Lucifer has been free to roam the Bunker (and take the odd supervised trip outside) for three months now, and things are starting to settle into a routine. At first he had taken mostly to himself, then he had found in his little brother a sort of confidante. They couldn't be more different, but have found out that sharing the experience of being angels turned humans (even though now Castiel has his grace back, if not his wings) makes them more similar than previously anticipated. A lot of things still baffle Cas, and Lucifer has to start anew, revisit his entire concept of self and readjust to life accordingly. He knows sooner or later he's going to get his grace back. They need him to fight Amara with his angel "mojo", as Dean calls it. But for now Sam is still unwilling to risk it. And if Lucifer is honest with himself, he doesn't really resent him his suspicions.

Still... for some reason, this tepid acceptance towards him, from Sam's part, sits differently with him than Dean's blatant lack of faith (even though they're on good terms most of the time), for instance. It hurts, is what it does. But he can't blame Sam. He has betrayed his trust after all, gone back on his promise of all those years ago. And even if it was done in desperation, and Sam understood that, something has broken between them, and would take time to rebuild again. He is confident they can get there, if anything because Sam truly is the best of them.

Lucifer has discovered a sort of twisted pleasure in hunting, or better, in getting hurt during a hunt. It doesn't happen often, partly because Sam and Dean take care of the most dangerous bits, leaving the gathering of information and research in the lore to Cas and him, partly because in the rare, but ever growing, occasions in which he is allowed to partake in the action, Lucifer can stand his own and is generally careful not to hurt his human body. Except... when he is in the thick of it, adrenaline rushing through his veins and spurring him on with the need to move faster, hit stronger, he feels alive, truly: his body abused, breaths quick and bones aching, remind him of the fragile state he is in and only make him fight harder. It feels like punishment, it feels like redemption. Mostly, it just feels good. He has talked to Dean of all people about it and found in him a kindred spirit. They both crave a challenge, love the feel of their blood singing when thrown to the ground, finding the resilience in themselves to stand back up.

But it is during one such occasion that he is thrown through a wall by a pissed off poltergeist and sprains his wrist. Castiel heals him, but they still decide to bench him for their next hunt, leaving him and Cas in town to keep an eye on things while Sam and Dean go into the woods in search for werewolves.

Lucifer doesn't like it, not one bit. "I have a bad feeling about this," he proclaims.

Dean just claps him on the shoulder, and raises an eyebrow in Cas's direction as if to say: "See, there are some angels who can make pop culture references?" So he takes Sam by the arm and makes him promise he'll be careful. Sam looks at him, bemused, but nods nonetheless, and the two brothers leave for the woods.

He paces back and forth all night, nerves frayed, until Cas grabs him by the arms and forcefully puts him to bed, but even then he can't sleep. He is too restless to sleep, too distracted to read or research. At one point Castiel has the audacity to tell him: "I know you're worried about Sam, but they're gonna be fine. Stop fretting." Lucifer wants to throttle him, but mostly he wants to shake himself: he shouldn't be so nervous about his former vessel, yet he can't help himself and it is this frantic feeling most of all that gets to his nerves.

In the morning Cas receives a call from Dean, telling him to get to the local hospital. _Asap_. In any other circumstance Lucifer would have gloated and said _I-told-you-so_ , but in this instance being in the right only leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

When they arrive, they find Dean in a hospital bed, battered and bruised, eyes vacant. Cas immediately rushes to his side, lightly touching his wrist and speaking to him in a soft voice. "Are you alright? What happened?" He brushes Dean's hair out of his eyes, a small encouraging smile on his lips. He cups his jaw and blue-white light emanates from his palm and heals the hunter. Still he doesn't move, just takes Cas's hand firmly in his, squeezing tight.

The bad feeling in Lucifer's gut only grows stronger, until he manages to choke out: "Where's Sam?"

It is only in that moment that Dean notices his presence, gaze focusing on him. It is like a dam breaking. He gasps, brow furrowing. Without saying a word, doesn't need to, he curls in on himself, grabs Castiel's wrist with both hands and puts the angel's hand near his face, like a small child would do with his favourite teddy bear, when mom isn't near and he doesn't know whom else to show his tears to.

Lucifer feels his legs give out under him, and has to brace himself against the doorpost not to fall. His vision blurs and he can feel bile rising up, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

He is having a panic attack, he realises. Sam is dead, and he can do nothing to change it. He curses his Father, his cruelty and indifference, he curses humanity, too weak to defend themselves.

A memory comes to him, sudden, from a time that seems now so distant. Sam, standing on a grave in the moonlight, looking at him with such raw resentment. He was so angry then, wrath marring his beautiful features and making him look like an avenging angel, alight with righteous fury. He was powerless to do anything to defeat Lucifer then, the Colt useless against the archangel, and still he refused to give up.

Sam was ready to stand up to the Devil himself, armed with nothing but his courage and determination, and now. Now he's... gone.

Lucifer remembers him, yelling at him that he was gonna rip his heart out. Funny... how things come true in the end, when you least expect it. The irony isn't lost on Lucifer in this moment, and he would laugh if he didn't feel like crying, for the space under his ribs does feel empty, hollowed out by the pain of the loss.

\---

It is only later, when the three of them have calmed down, that they decide on a plan of action. They'll retrieve Sam's body from the cabin, but not before making sure the couple is ok. The humans can rot for all Lucifer cares, and he tells Dean as much. An argument erupts, they are all hurting too much to be rational. "I don't give a shit about these humans, they're the reason Sam's gone."

"I know that! But this is what he would have wanted, so I'm gonna do it. And you're gonna help."

"I won't leave his body there a minute longer than necessary. How can you care so little?"

"You think I don't? He's my _brother_!" Dean yells, grabbing the collar of Lucifer's shirt, and slamming him against the wall. Cas, who has been watching the exchange with a pinched expression, puts a hand on Dean's shoulder and the fight leaves the hunter immediately. He releases Lucifer, takes a step back, and lets his shoulders droop, defeated. "He's my brother. But we have to do this first."

Lucifer nods.

Before he can say anything they hear a growl and the sound of broken glass from a room down the corridor. They run to see what has happened and get attacked but a werewolf. Caught by surprise, they hesitate a fraction before making their own move. This allows the werewolf time to grab a hold of Dean and throw him on the opposite wall.

Lucifer attacks next, fury and loss spurring him on, but he's blinded by rage, and the werewolf has an easy time disposing of him. When he's on the ground, trying to get up, he sees Cas from the corner of his eye, crouched next to Dean, trying to cure a nasty gash on his head, oozing blood. When the angel notices the werewolf's approach, he stands up, putting himself in front of Dean, healed but still a little fuzzy, and extracts his blade. Lucifer uses this moment to gather himself, exchange a look with Cas, and prepare to attack from behind.

He's ready to charge when a gunshot reverberates in the room, and the werewolf drops to the ground dead, silver bullet between the eyes. The three of them startle. Lucifer turns in the direction of the shot and there he is. Sam. A hand on his abdomen, where blood has spread and soaked through his shirt, the other beginning to shake around the gun.

Lucifer is closer and the first to move. He rushes towards him and catches him just in time, the hunter collapsing exhausted in his arms. He is pale, breaths shallow, but he is alive. Lucifer goes to his knees, cradling his body close to his, giving him warmth. Sam looks up at him for a brief second, smirks a little, whispers: "Three against one, and you were still getting your ass kicked," and promptly passes out.

Dean and Cas arrive soon after, and together they carry him to a bed, where Cas can heal him. He doesn't wake up, but his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.

\---

Lucifer insists on staying with Sam while the other two clean up the mess.

He is caressing the hunter's hair, overwhelmed by the need to touch him to make sure he is still there, a tender gesture he didn't know himself capable of, when Sam stirs and wakes up, blinking tiredness out of his eyes.

Lucifer takes his hand back.

"Hey." Sam smiles.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Where's my brother? And Cas?"

"They're getting rid of the body. How are you?" Lucifer asks, playing with his ring, Nick's ring, for something to do with his hands, now he can't touch Sam anymore.

"I'm fine. How did Michelle take it?"

"Who?"

"The woman. The man I killed was her husband." He grimaces. "Can't say I'm sorry for him. He tried to strangle me. But she deserved better, poor girl."

He knew it. Humans... vicious things. Lucifer is starting to see red. "If I could, I'll bring him back to life and kill him again myself."

"Hush," Sam whispers, patting his hands. Lucifer has closed them in fists so tight, without noticing, that he has left indents in his palms with his nails. "He was scared. He wanted to save his wife."

"And that excuses him?"

"No, of course not. But I'm still sorry for her."

Lucifer doesn't understand and is getting angry, the old resentment resurfacing with a vengeance. But this time it is mixed with a new feeling, an ache deep in his stomach at the thought of this man so willing to throw his life away for such unworthy creatures.

"They don't deserve you," he tells him.

Sam looks at him with something akin to fondness and Lucifer is taken aback by the emotion he sees in the hunter's eyes, directed at him so single-mindedly. Sam smiles almost sadly and speaks to him as if explaining a new concept to a small child: "It isn't about deserve."

Lucifer swallows, regains his composure. "And what is it about?" He demands. "Becoming a martyr? Getting yourself killed?"

"No, it... it's just part of the job description. Most people won't know that they're safe in their beds because there are hunters out there, fighting the things that go bump in the night. But that's ok. Gratitude isn't why I do it. Although it is appreciated."

"Then why?? Why put yourself on the line of fire like this? These people... they're flawed, they're hateful." Why can't he understand? They aren't worth it, worth _him_.

"Yes, a lot of them are. But a lot of them aren't. And who am I to decide who lives and who dies? Who deserves to be saved? This is what I do..."

"That's stupid, and reckless."

"Maybe." He shrugs, gives him a self deprecating grin.

Lucifer stands up, hovering over the bed, trying to impose himself. "I won't let you do it."

Sam, never one to back down, sits up as well, challengingly. "You won't?" He must have seen something in Lucifer's eyes, though, a quiet desperation, because he exhales and loses his fighting stance, presses a hand to his face. "Listen... there was a time when I wanted to run away from this life, you know this."

And yes, Lucifer does know. _All those times you ran away..._ he remembers telling him, and wishes it'd been true, that he _was_ running towards him. Sam is his true vessel, they had been made for each other. It had been a cruel trick on his Father's part to make him so dependent on a human. But despite the unpleasantness of this clause, Lucifer can't resent Sam. He truly is his equal. Even when he had defeated him, sent them both back in the Cage, Lucifer couldn't hate him. Sam had displayed such strength, such defiance... towards Lucifer, Michael, destiny itself. He has a force of will that only parallels Lucifer's, perhaps even more so, because he is only a human and fighting against creatures so much more powerful than he is.

Lucifer is starting to understand what his Father and Castiel see in humanity, their potential. Sam is its brightest example.

And Lucifer loves him.

The realisation comes to him like a bolt of lightning, sudden and all consuming, electrifying, and yet, after that first shock, all he feels is a calm acceptance, like a secret always known, and finally brought into the light.

Lucifer loves Sam Winchester. He had loved him during his imprisonment, for eons, when he was still just a spark of a soul in the distant future. He had loved him when he wouldn't say yes, and then when he did. He even loved him when he threw them in the Cage together. He loves him still.

Sam keeps on talking, unaware of Lucifer's inner turmoil. "I did run away, because I wanted to be... normal. But deep down, I think that even if Azazel hadn't come and screwed it up for me, I would have found a way back to the life. This is who I am. There's no escaping it, but it doesn't have to be a burden. It would be so simple to just... walk away again, say screw them, and at times the desire to just give up is so powerful. Because you are right... most of them don't deserve it. But I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't do something."

"What a heart of gold you are." He sneers, to cover up how much Sam's words are affecting him.

"No. This isn't about that. I don't do it because I want to prove what a great person I am, how selfless. This isn't even about doing the right thing, to be honest. This is about knowing myself and my value, _my call_ and owning it. Being a hunter is when I am most myself. And I choose everyday to be the best that I can. And there is a lot of selfishness in the act. But there is also freedom." Sam's looking at him with imploring eyes, as if asking him to see his point, to understand.  

"Freedom..." Oh, hasn't he chased after it for centuries?

Sam reaches out for him, takes is hands in his. "The feeling of abandonment, of being enough in the eye of your Father. Dean and I know what that feels like. I think... If the both of you took the time to sit down and talk to each other, really talk to each other, you'll see how much you have in common. And honestly... I don't know if I want the two of you to bond, but... you're more similar than you think and maybe the both of you could talk through your issues together."

Lucifer has come to appreciate Dean, even though they still get to the each other's nerves from time to time. There are days when Dean remembers that the many losses that have befallen his family are partly due to Heaven's involvement in their lives. And sometimes Dean reminds Lucifer so much of his brother that it physically hurts to look at him. And so they both lash out. But in the end they know that the other isn't to blame, especially Dean, who, Lucifer had to admit, is a far better brother than Michael ever was. He stood by Sam until the very end, and Lucifer acknowledges and respects that.

Lucifer sidesteps the point. He can prove that his relationship with Dean is improving with deeds and not words. But the mention of his Father makes his blood boil.

He takes his hands back, regrets it immediately, but keeps his distance nevertheless. "Please Sam. You really wanna compare your father to God? He _betrayed_ me! We've gone over this already, have we not? He created humanity: greedy, spiteful, violent. He put the Mark on me, used me and then threw me away, pitched my brother against me, left me to rot for thousands of years, alone in that Cage." He notices he is starting to yell, so he tries to lower his voice, lest Dean and Cas come back. The last thing he wants is to be interrupted now that he is feeling so vulnerable. He doesn't mind being seen as such by Sam, but it is too early to show weakness to the others. "And then He just... left." His voice breaks on the last word.

Sam must sense Lucifer isn't in a good place, because he holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Ok... I don't want to justify him, but..." Here he pauses. Takes a deep breath and lowers his gaze to fix it upon the ground, as if he is pondering his next words. When he lifts his eyes again there is resolve in them. "Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself. And grow up."

"I'm sorry... did it escape your notice that I am millions of years old?"

Sam keeps talking, steadfast. "I think that deep down, you're still just a child, who feels lonely and abandoned, and you're just breaking your father's toys to get back at him. But that won't bring him back. Maybe he wants you to change, maybe he just doesn't care. But you shouldn't live your life for him. And really... he's not free of blame. He did a shitty thing to you, putting the power of the Mark on you and then leaving you to deal with it on your own. He left you in the Cage, alone and in torment, for eons. And I cannot... I cannot begin to imagine how desperate you must have felt. But you can make a choice. Right here, right now."

Lucifer doesn't understand. "What kind of choice is that? You've bound my grace to you. I'm stuck into this mortal vessel, slave to its flaws and limits."

"As we all." Sam moves closer, lays a hand on his chest, right over his heart. Lucifer feels trapped under his touch, his penetrating gaze. "You can't decide what life you'll be given. You just have to make the best of it. You know I can't give you your grace back. Not yet. Perhaps one day. But even then... even when you'll have your powers back, you'll still have to make a choice. You can choose to destroy this planet and everyone on it. Or you can prove that you are not what they paint you to be. To the world, to your father. To _me_." He adds, hand curling in a fist, bringing their bodies even closer together, and Lucifer hopes. Hopes madly, heart full to bursting.

"You're the angel that rebelled against God's will. And yes, your motives weren't right, but... isn't that what free will is all about? When you can choose, you can also make mistakes." He is so near and warm, Lucifer feels dizzy.

"You are free, Lucifer. Rebel against what your jealousy and pride, the Mark, all those centuries of hopelessness, made you."

He takes a step back, lets his hands fall to his side, and Lucifer feels their absence on his body keenly. "Write your own story. Choose."

\---

Sam walks away right after that last exchange, leaving Lucifer breathless and confused. It takes him a moment to let the words sink in, and when they finally do he feels a strange sense of peace wash over him. _Sam Winchester_ , he thinks, _can even tame the Devil_.

Something Sam has said sits wrong with him, though, and he needs to rectify it, as soon as possible.

That evening, back in the Bunker, after Dean and Cas have retired, leaving him and Sam alone in the Tv room, Lucifer seizes the moment. He is feeling exposed and so he is thankful for the darkness surrounding them.

"I wasn't hopeless." It is barely more than a whisper.

"I'm sorry?" Sam, who has been nodding off during the entirety of the movie and is now sprawled carelessly on the sofa, idly changing channels on the screen, immediately wakes.

Lucifer observes him from the corner of his eye, while keeping his gaze firmly fixed upon the screen. He gulps, his throat strangely dry. "In the cage, I wasn't hopeless." He gathers his courage then, and turns, looks Sam in the eyes, striving to communicate all that he can only try to convey with words. "I knew one day... you would set me free."

Sam's face in this moment is a mask of sorrow. He is gazing at him not with pity, but with a quiet desolation, a secret regret, like Lucifer is breaking his heart.

He stands up slowly, walks towards him. Lucifer looks up at him and the air leaves his lungs. Sam's eyes are sparkling with unshed tears, and he's staring at Lucifer as if seeing him, truly seeing him, for the first time. If Lucifer were still an angel, could still see beyond the human plane, he's positive the brightness of Sam's soul in this moment would be enough to blind even the Light bringer.

He closes his eyes, reverent in the presence of such a being, afraid of what else he could find in Sam's gaze, and startles a little when he feels a warm hand cup his jaw. When he dares open his eyes, Sam's already gone.

The next morning, when he wakes up, he notices someone has slipped a piece of paper under his door. It is in Sam's elegant writing and it contains a quote by Marcus Aurelius. Lucifer folds the note with care and puts it in his breast pocket, then leaves the room to start his day, a small, hopeful smile on his lips.

" _Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."_

**_“It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.” - Jane Austen_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Works cited in this chapter:  
> Shakespeare, Macbeth  
> Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
> 
> I apologise (not really) for the Wonder Woman references in this chapter.
> 
> Aside from the Emperor (and Sam's line in Metamorphosis: "It doesn't matter what you are, it only matters what you do"), the inspiration for Sam's speech on the need to choose, even when life deals you a bad hand, and owning up to that choice, comes from Manzoni and in particular from Gertrude's story.


	5. Slowly and then all at once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: "I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once." - John Green
> 
> POV Sam

* * *

**_"I burned so long, so quiet, you must have wondered if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do." -_** **_Annelyse Gelma_**

  
After the incident with the werewolves, and that conversation in the Tv room, Sam tries to keep his distance, feeling as if he has crossed a line and revealed something to Lucifer he still wasn't ready to share, or admit, even to himself. The adoring look on the angel's face as he had gazed up at him from the couch had nearly broken him. So Sam had taken a step back, trying to regain control of his emotions. But it is known... good intentions pave the road, so the situation obviously goes to hell pretty damn soon.

One morning while he is walking into the library, he finds Lucifer asleep in an armchair with a book open in his lap. Dante's _Inferno_ of all things. Lucifer stirs just then, yawns and rubs his eyes with his fist like a small child. He looks so peaceful and innocent... Sam feels something surge in him, the likes of which he hadn't felt in a very long time and knows instantly that he is screwed.

He clears his throat: "Didn't know you appreciate literature?" He wants his words to have bite behind them, but he just sounds curious instead.

"One thing I would say for humans." Lucifer replies. "Some of you are quite talented. Take Dante for example." He says, waving the book. "Such powerful images, evocative language, and all in service of a tale that shows humanity's flaws."

Sam can see the teasing smirk on Lucifer's face, but knows he's only half joking. "It also shows our achievements." He retorts.

He takes a step closer, sits down on the armrest and picks up the book now resting in Lucifer's lap. "Even in Hell, the souls Dante encounters aren't all vicious and cruel. Take Paolo and Francesca, or Pier delle Vigne. Ulysses! You would like him."

At this Lucifer looks up, intrigued. "He was cast down by God, although... his reasons were, well, quite the opposite from your motives. Dante puts him in Hell because he dared navigate beyond the pillars of Hercules and convinced his crewmates to follow him in a damning quest, but you can see Dante has a great deal of respect for him as well."

Sam knows he is gesticulating a little too enthusiastically, but he'd always been fascinated by Dante's work and he has to admit, to himself if not to his brother, he _is_ a little bit of a nerd. He loves engaging in discussions such as this one.

"Ulysses is one of the best examples of humanity: he wants to learn, discover, has endured pain and loss, but still he carries on."

He opens the book (it's not a translation, but he can understand Italian quite well), rifles through it until he reaches the passage he is seeking: " _Considerate la vostra semenza/ fatti non foste a viver come bruti/ ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza._ " [Consider well the seed that gave you birth: you were not made to live as brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge.]

He reads aloud, knowing the Devil can speak all languages known to man, just like Castiel can. Perks of being a former celestial being thousands of years old.

"We can't always follow his advice, but we try. And that means something."

Lucifer is looking at him as if he were a complicated puzzle, takes his book back without breaking eye contact and, accidentally on purpose, gently brushes their fingers together. "Thank you, Sam. I'll think about it." He says, then stands up and makes as if to leave the library.

Before he can get out of earshot, Sam asks him: "let me know what else you'll read."

Lucifer comes back then, a shadow of a smirk on his face. "Don't know Sam, maybe I shouldn't read too much. Soon I'll start getting ideas and thinking."

Sam can't help it, he laughs. "You did _not_ just quote _Beauty and the beast_ to me." He chuckles a little more, but stops when he notices the expression on Lucifer's face: he is positively glowing, eyes wide in awe. "What?" He asks.

Lucifer shakes himself: "nothing, I just... this is the first time I make you laugh. Didn't think I'd see the day."

"Stranger things have happened." Sam replies, a little unsure of himself. He quickly changes the subject. "How come you know cartoons?"

"My little brother, and your big brother," he says, pointing his index finger first at himself, then at Sam, "have introduced me to Disney. I quite like it, to be honest. Clever, for something made for children." He leans in, then puts a hand over his mouth as if to share a secret: "Cas cries every time we watch _The little mermaid_. Don't tell Dean, though. He'll get it in his own time."

Sam tries and fails to stifle a giggle. "My lips are sealed." He promises.

"Well... I'll be going then, much to read." He bows a little and tips an imaginary hat in Sam's direction, like a gentleman of yesteryear.

"Try Shakespeare next." Sam suggests.

"Mmm... you sure that's wise, Sammy? Maybe I will get the wrong ideas, all those murders and evil plots." Lucifer says with a mischievous spark in his eyes that belies his words and shows he isn't being serious.

"I wouldn't worry too much. If you do, I'll be right here to stop you." Sam answers, tone light and amused, but resolve clear in this gaze.

Lucifer steps closer, only a few inches separating them. Sam can feel the heat radiating from his body. Lucifer very slowly raises his hand, like he is approaching a wild animal he wishes to tame, giving Sam all the time in the world to stop him, if he so wishes. Sam stands frozen on the stop, too mesmerized by what he is seeing in the Devil's eyes to move. Lucifer lightly strokes his cheek, thumb touching his bottom lip just so. Sam stops breathing, feels the air leave his lungs.

"Look like the gentle flower." Lucifer whispers, looking up at Sam from under heavy lashes, the very image of the Tempter. "But be the serpent under it." And with a final smirk thrown Sam's way he disappears around a corner, leaving Sam breathless and a little bit aroused, but mostly confused as hell.

The next morning Sam finds that a piece of paper has been slipped under his door during the night. He picks it up and sees it is a note written in a beautiful calligraphy, neat but sharp. It isn't Dean's or Cas's, so that leaves only Lucifer as the possible author. Perhaps he has gotten the idea after Sam had sent him that passage from Marcus Aurelius.

It reads:

" _Pollà tà deinà k'ouden anthrōpou deinòteron pélei_ " [Many terrible/wonderful things, but none more so than man]

Sam can't believe his eyes. Maybe there is hope after all.

\---

From that day on begins an exchanging of quotes and snippets from books they are reading. Dean starts to tease his brother mercilessly after he finds out they are writing to each other - "Poetry, Sam? _Really_?" - and that Lucifer sometimes, instead of sheets of paper, leaves Sam the whole book on his doorstep and puts flowers between the pages to mark the passage.

Sam doesn't want to blush, but can't help himself. Memorably, once, Lucifer rewrites for him an entire passage from Jane Austen, of all things: _“I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”_  

Dean must _never_ know about this.

It makes Sam wonder, though. _Doesn't Lucifer know what he is doing? No, of course he knows, the literal Devil._ He is charmed, despite himself, to the point he decides to put both papers and flowers in a folder he keeps in his bedside table. The last note he receives before his latest hunt leaves a pleasant feeling in his chest.

" _We have made you a creature neither of heaven nor of earth, neither mortal nor immortal, in order that you may, as the free and proud shaper of your own being, fashion yourself in the form you may prefer. It will be in your power to descend to the lower, brutish forms of life; you will be able, through your own decision, to rise again to the superior orders whose life is divine."_

Under the quote Lucifer has written something else: "Read this and thought of you and your Ulysses. I find myself merely a human now, still unformed. Maybe you'll help me decide, since with your deeds, and stubbornness, you've already ascended to a divine state of being. Sammy, my very own angel. A fiddle of gold against your soul..." And it is signed with Lucifer's name accompanied by a smiley face with horns and a trident.

Sam remembers that bet from all those years ago in an abandoned apartment in Detroit. He was a different person, then. They both were. Perhaps Lucifer's really starting to let go of his ego, if he's willing to admit Sam, a human, is better than him.

Then something else registers and Sam feels his cheeks flush a deep red. He wants to throw himself on the bed and bury his head under the pillow, get out of the Bunker and walk until he deems he has put enough distance between them, consumed all this tension, and the itchy feeling under his skin has disappeared.

Lucifer has not just called Sam an angel, _his_ angel.

And, _ugh_ , it is so cheesy, it is utterly, utterly sappy.

God help him, Sam loves it.

He is doomed.

 

**_"I don’t care if I fall in love to a devil, as long as that devil will love me the way he loves hell."_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Works cited in this chapter:  
> Dante, Inferno XXVI  
> Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice  
> Pico della Mirandola, Oration on the dignity of man  
> Sophocles, Antigone. I've translated "tà deinà" as both wonderful and terrible because the term in Greek is ambiguous. And it speaks of the duality of man. I love this play, and that's the reason why I've chosen this quote as the title of the fic.
> 
> EDIT: I was rewatching Mansfield Park (the 1999 version) earlier and I stumbled across this quote, which I had completely forgotten and it's *perfect* for this chapter. Yeah, I know it's said by Henry, but it fits, so... here:   
> "You are infinitely my superior in merit; all that I know. You have qualities which I had not supposed to exist in such a degree in any human creature. You have some touches of the angel in you."


	6. Things unknown but longed for still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a poem by Maya Angelou:  
> "The caged bird sings  
> with a fearful trill  
> of things unknown  
> but longed for still  
> and his tune is heard  
> on the distant hill  
> for the caged bird  
> sings of freedom."
> 
> POV Lucifer

* * *

**_"There are some feelings you will never find words for; you will learn to name them after the ones who gave them to you." - Maza Dohta_ **

 

Tucked safely in a book in his bedside table - and Lucifer still can't really believe that he has a room of all things, because he needs to sleep and brush his teeth and do all these mundane things he wasn't even able to imagine before being human - the angel has a list.

It is not a very long list, it has to be said, not yet, but he thinks (hopes, dreads. He's still undecided on the correct emotion) it'll become longer in time, and Lucifer keeps it with the utmost care. He writes each item painstakingly slow - he's discovered he's very particular about calligraphy - and folds the paper careful of the angles.

He writes a neat 4.

Fourth place goes to the peanut butter sandwiches Cas has introduced him to. The angel looks longingly at Lucifer while he eats them, mournful look on his face, because now he's graced up again, he can only "taste molecules".

Sam's also a great fan and the knowledge sits well with Lucifer, as if the choice of snack is what will bring him and Sam closer together. Naïve really, still, Lucifer likes to think they have this little thing in common.

Dean complains it's a conspiracy against him, that he has to always ransack the aisle at the supermarket, and that the dentist's bill will cost him a fortune when all three of them will have to remove their cavities. He scowls every time he brings them to eat while they consult books in the library, but the glint in his eyes in unmistakable when he hears them making sounds of appreciation. He not so secretly likes to feed them. Dean's a nurturer and thrives taking care of others. Lucifer's glad for Castiel's presence, because sometimes Dean's so busy caring for everyone else, he forgets to take care of himself. He needs somebody else to do it for him, to remind him he's worth it.

Dean's also still a kid inside. He had to grow up fast, had to give up his innocence and his happiness to a father who put too much responsibility on a child. And he still lives with the burden of the knowledge that no matter what, he was never gonna live up to the impossible standard his father had set for him. Lucifer should know, he's the poster boy for daddy issues.

But from what he gathers from Sam's and Castiel's reactions to things he does and says, he's getting more and more comfortable letting go of the mask he's been wearing all his life. Sam is at times glad, at times baffled. Castiel just looks fondly at him, the same way he does Lucifer, when the angel finds enjoyment in something human, as if he can see the mask crack and light spill outward.

Only the week before they went to karaoke. To say Sam was mortified would be a severe understatement. He looked as if he'd be glad to have the ground open up and swallow him. He was sinking so low under the table, he was difficult to see, even with his massive frame, shoulders hunched and hair covering most of his face.

Lucifer and Dean, on the other hand, were having the time of their lives. They'd taken residence on the stage and driven the crowd wild with their performances. Ok, Dean not so much, the poor guy can't hold a note to save his life, but he made up for it with his charming personality and girls and a few boys alike were looking at him with a captivated expression.

When it was Lucifer's turn to sing solo, he went through the list searching for inspiration and stopped when he found _Bloody Messiah_ by Ladyheart. Lucifer wasn't overly familiar with them, too flashy for his taste, but he liked the song nonetheless, and decided to sing that one, if only for the irony.

As soon as the song began to play Sam perked up and Lucifer saw Dean glance at his brother in distaste before directing his attention toward the stage, a betrayed look on his face. Lucifer shrugged, grinning, and Dean, after making a scene of drowning his displeasure in his beer, pointed to his brother and mouthed: "It's his favourite band." Followed by an overdramatic shudder.

Lucifer's mood only improved with the knowledge that he'd quite casually chosen a song Sam might actually like, and he poured all his efforts in singing it to the best of his abilities to make the hunter happy. During the entirety of the song Sam's gaze never strayed from Lucifer, nor the angel had the desire to look elsewhere.

When the song finished Lucifer made his way back to their booth, accompanied by the general cheer from the other patrons, and sat down in front of Sam, who kept looking at him as if spellbound.

He swallowed. "That was... I mean, that was just..." He took his beer and drained it in a single gulp.

Lucifer was _delighted_. Never had he seen Sam at a loss for words. Lucifer hitched his leg further, touched it against Sam's under the table, and told him: "it was for you, Sammy, " thrilled at the lovely blush upon Sam's cheeks.

His eyes strayed from the hunter's face only when he heard Dean make a puking sound from beside his brother, whom he addressed. "If you're done making doe eyes at the Devil, let me get out of here. If I have to watch you lovebirds I need something stronger than beer. Come on Cas!" And with that, he drunkenly climbed on the table and made his way to the counter, Castiel trailing behind him, sighing in exasperation.

Sam continued sputtering long after his brother had gone, but no actual words left his mouth. Lucifer took pity on him, patted his hand and motioned with his head for the billiard, where a group of college kids where playing, or at least attempting to. "Care for a match, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, evidently glad for something else to do than stew silently in the booth, and followed him, relieved.

They spent the rest of the evening hustling poor unfortunate players, listening to people singing karaoke, cheered by their friends and other patrons. They were later joined by Dean and Cas, and went home to the Bunker a little sleepy and more than a little tipsy, but content. So much so that Lucifer added karaoke to his list, in third place - second place is for pancakes - and demanded, to Sam's utter dismay and Dean's joy, that they return again the next karaoke night.

Contemplating his list now, Lucifer can't help but marvelling at the progress he's making in feeling more comfortable with human stuff, and actually enjoying them. It's so strange, would have seemed unthinkable to his former self, but he's adapting and he's growing, and every day brings with it an experience that enriches him and makes him happy.

There's one thing, at the top of his list, that lifts his spirit and fills him with absolute, unreserved bliss, like nothing else ever could. He plans to keep it, cherish it, give it the whole world if asked. And the knowledge of the lengths he would go to, in order to ensure it stays safe and content frightens him a little.

He traces the name beside the number one with reverence.

If the others were to read the list... Castiel would probably smile fondly, proud of his big brother finally coming to appreciate the same things as him, if not in the finer details, at least in the more general sense. Dean would call him a nerd, he just knows it. He's done so in the past, finding him tucked away in some corner of the Bunker, usually the green house, pouring his love over plants and books equally.

"Figures I had to be surrounded by bookworms" he japed one day upon finding him hidden in the catwalk that leads from the garage to the chem lab, an heavy tome about the history of the migrations of banshees from Scotland to South America in the late XVI century. Lucifer had scowled at him, as if Dean wasn't a geek in his own way, and got back to his book, not even dignifying the remark with a response.

But Sam... Sam cannot see it. Not for any reason.

There is a truth there, spelt out in neat handwriting, Lucifer isn't yet ready to share. But he knows, in his heart, Sam would accept it, would accept _him_. Sam's kind that way. He'll be flattered, but uncertain, won't deem himself good enough to merit that place. That's why Lucifer loves him.

He folds the paper again, prepares himself for bed, and drifts off to sleep smiling to himself, knowing he'll wake up the next morning to see the very first thing on his list of "Good things about humanity": Sammy.

****

**_"I have built, deep in my heart, a chapel filled with you." - Marcel Proust_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know I've written the Karaoke scene bearing in mind Mark Pellegrino singing at that infamous Karaoke Party at Vancon 2012.   
> I'll leave a link because reasons: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ye8MNLzbQw


	7. When is a monster not a monster?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When is a monster not a monster? Oh when you love it." - Caitlyn Siehl
> 
> POV Sam

* * *

**_“I think that hate is a feeling that can only exist where there is no understanding.” - Tennessee Williams_ **

 

A couple of months pass in this fashion. They go on hunts, research ways of dealing with Amara, and in the quiet times in between the four of them chill in the Bunker together, watching movies or reading, or, on one memorable occasion, playing paintball, and generally behaving like giant children.

And then there's the two of them: Sam and Lucifer.

Every morning Sam leaves Lucifer a note, and finds one in return in the evening. They have become more and more personal by the day, to the point that they almost feel like confessions. Of what, Sam isn't totally sure himself.

It is the eve of battle. Sam is returning to his bedroom, thrilled to find one such note, and fill his mind with something other than worry for the challenge ahead of them, when he sees his brother, nonchalantly pressed against the door, clearly waiting for him to arrive.  

"So. You mind telling me what is happening between you and Evil Boy?"

"Seriously?" Sam says, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. "Besides, nothing's happened." _Yet_ , he doesn't say. Sam can be honest with himself and admit that something is definitely brewing between him and Lucifer, but he'll be damned if he's gonna tell his nosy brother.

"Really? 'Cause even Cas has noticed, and he's not the fastest at picking up on this sort of thing." Dean replies, grinning. _You would know_ , Sam wants to say, but pushes the retort back. They'll get there in time, he thinks.

His brother waves a book he has kept hidden behind his back "And... this sure as hell doesn't look like nothing."

Sam can see, trapped between the pages, a small bouquet of flowers: bluebells, gardenias and carnations, if he's not mistaken.

"You know what they mean?"

No, but he suspects Dean does. Sam isn't particularly familiar with flowers other than in the measure required for performing spells, but since this little game has started he has bookmarked a couple of websites about their meaning. He has discovered that Lucifer often leaves flowers that in some way express the same sentiment as the quote he's chosen. Sam likes to be thorough, _sue him_.

Instead of replying in the negative, Sam makes a move to grab the book. After a quick scrap he manages to wrestle it out of his brother's hand. "Did you read it?" He asks, tone accusatory.

Dean shakes his head no. "I wouldn't. It's private, but, Sam..."

When silence stretches, no words forthcoming, Sam says, annoyed: "If you think this is Ruby all over again, just come out and say it."

"No, Sammy, I... I trust you, ok? I'm just not sure we can trust him." Dean replies with a grimace.

"I thought the two of you were getting along."

"We do, actually. I also get along with Crowley, much as it pains me to admit it. But he's still the King of Hell, and Lucifer is still the Devil. Just because he doesn't want to wear you for Prom anymore, doesn't mean he's a saint now. You've always been too kind to people who don't deserve it."

Sam knows that, of course he knows. But despite everything that is happening between the two of them, no matter how confusing and exhilarating, his judgment isn't clouded. He snorts, softly. "He said the same thing to me recently. The two of you really are quite similar. Maybe you should start exchanging notes as well."

Dean scowls. "No, thanks. I'll leave the book club to you. But, seriously, Sam..."

"I know, Dean. I'll be cautious, ok? I know that he's not the most trustworthy, but for some reason I... I trust him." And in the moment he says it, Sam knows it to be true. 

"That's what I don't understand. How can you trust him so blindly, after everything he's done?"

"I just do. And I'm not blind." Sam says forcefully. He isn't naïve. "I can't explain it. Maybe it's because I was his vessel once. I know him, Dean. I see him. And he is changing."

Dean must see the determination and the conviction in his eyes, because he nods. "Just be careful, alright?"

"I know you don't like it, but I just can't help it." Can't help that he understands and accepts Lucifer. Were he inclined to give credit to the French, he'd say that " _tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner_ ". And so he adds, softly, like a confession. "I forgave him his sins."

Dean looks up, startled. "You forgave him?"

"I did. I just don't have it in me to resent him anymore. I don't want hatred to consume me, like it consumed him. I'm trying to show him, but he's so stubborn."

"Does he know, then?"

"No. He'll think it weakness on my part. And his pride won't accept it." Sam wonders at times if Lucifer'll ever stop being prideful. Hateful, resentful, maybe so. But proud? That is another story.

"You're too good." Dean says, with a huff.

Sam blushes, lips twitching in a private smile.

"I've been told."

\---

Sam waits for Dean to walk down the corridor before hastily opening the book to the page marked by the flowers. A few scattered lines in the page have been underlined in red. When Sam reads them his heart skips a bit. It's as though Lucifer'd been reading his mind.

" _Do not think about sin, he thought. There are enough problems now without sin. Also I have no understanding of it. I have no understanding of it and I am not sure that I believe in it."_

" _He thought much and he kept on thinking about sin. You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?"_

And then, when the meaning of the last quote registers, it stops. Surely Sam is getting ahead of himself, it can't be... and still.

" _The boy keeps me alive, he thought. I must not deceive myself too much_."

But there, in the margin, in Lucifer's neat handwriting: _my boy king_.

Before Sam can regain his balance and retire to his room in a hurry to gather his thoughts, a voice speaks behind him.

"How can you forgive me?"

Sam jumps and does a 180, book slipping from his fingers in his utterly undignified fumble. Lucifer bows down to pick up the flowers, indulgent smile on his face, but his eyes betray apprehension and a fragile hope.

In that moment the thought comes to Sam, unbidden.

_Because I love you_.

"I just do." He says instead, and hopes it'll be enough. "One day I thought of you and... I didn't have it in me anymore."

"Just like that? After everything I did to you? All you had to endure? The loss, the pain?" Lucifer is looking at him like he holds the answer to everything, but Sam doesn't.

"What do you want from me? That I take every awful thing you did to me, and weight it against a feather? That's not how it works." He skates a hand through his hair, tries to regain his balance, to find the words to explain just what it is he's feeling right now. "Forgiveness is not rational. It's not proportional to the sins committed. It doesn't require you earn it. It is freely given. And must be freely accepted."

Lucifer offers him the flowers, then. Looks at him, accepting and inquiring at the same time. Slowly he raises his hand, brushes a lock of Sam's hair behind his ear, and fixes there the little bouquet.

Sam closes his eyes, overwhelmed.

"Sam... Are you afraid?" Lucifer asks him, so gentle, a hand cupping his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek.

Sam inhales deeply, reaches inside himself to find the strength to let himself give in to this. On the next exhale he murmurs: "Yes."

He opens his eyes and the awe in Lucifer's nearly brings him to his knees.

"Yes." He says, more forcefully, and brings their mouths together in a searing kiss.

 

**_"Kiss him. Kiss him as if he were Troy and you were born for war."_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Lucifer gives Sam in this chapter is The old man and the Sea, by Hemingway.
> 
> Bluebells: humility, gratitude and constancy.  
> Gardenias: trust, renewal and purity.  
> Carnations: deep love and admiration.


	8. You kiss by the book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter's title is like... the cheesiest. I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> This chapter contains the second fanart by Coco-mint. Again, thank you so much!!
> 
> POV Lucifer

* * *

**_"Can you hear the breaking? It is the holiest part." - Andrea Gibson_ **

 

They gracelessly stumble through the door to Sam's room in their hasty retreat from the corridor, away from prying eyes. Sam kicks the door shut behind him and catches Lucifer off guard by turning and slamming him against it. He then proceeds to devour the angel, crowding him in and barely leaving him time to understand what it is that is actually happening.

A minute ago Lucifer was cautiously approaching Sam, marvelling at the hunter's shy demeanour, now he is trapped against the door, Sam demanding Lucifer grants him access to his mouth with gentle but insistent flicks of his tongue on his upper lip, and hands roaming on every available inch of his body.

Lucifer manages to lay a hand against Sam's chest and pushes him away a hair's breadth. "Slow down, cowboy," he jokes, trying to catch his breath.

Sam blushes prettily, taking a step back, and Lucifer feels the loss immediately. The hunter apologises, carding a hand through his hair at the back of this neck.

Lucifer reaches out for him, taking his hand in his. "Hey. I was only a little overwhelmed. But that's ok. That was more than ok, you hear me?"

Sam glances up at him with the look Lucifer has heard Dean refer to as _the puppy dog eyes_. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. We can stop, if you're not up for it. It's alright. We can just, lay together, maybe read for a while."

Lucifer will have none of it. "I don't want you to hold back because of me. I'm a big boy. I'll ask you to stop if it all gets too much. But I want you, Sam." He says, eagerly, and kisses Sam to prove his point.

Things escalate pretty quickly from there. They make their way to the bed in an awkward fumble to get rid of their clothes and be able to touch bare skin. When the last garment is tossed aside they stop for a moment to take in their naked bodies. Lucifer can't help but be in awe of Sam, his fingers hitching to touch his heated skin again.

Reading the lust in the angel's eyes, matched in his own, Sam closes the distance between them. Their languid kisses soon turn to something far more passionate, while they lay intertwined on the bed, breaths coming harsh and quick.

When they come up for air they're chest to chest, Sam looming over him, forearms on the mattress on both sides of Lucifer's head. There's a question in Sam's burning gaze and Lucifer's only too happy to give his silent assent. He nods, and Sam draws in a shuttering breath before diving in to capture Lucifer's mouth in an intense kiss and bring a hand up to stroke his aching erection.

Lucifer lets him take control, already too far gone on these new and fascinating sensations to do much else beside enjoy Sam's ministrations. He finds soon enough that Sammy's usual reserved demeanour completely disappears in the bedroom: he knows what he wants and he takes, and Lucifer's happy to give.

The moment Lucifer, drunken on this all encompassing sensation, begs him brokenly to fuck him, Sam complies, opening him carefully with his fingers and then driving into him, faster and harder at every thrust, like a merciful god granting his faithful servant a gift.

When Sam's rhythm begins to falter, he takes Lucifer in hand, bringing him on the brink with a few strokes. Lucifer spills on the sheets, and Sam follows soon after, draping himself across Lucifer's broad shoulders and placing a soft kiss on the back of his neck. Lucifer collapses and Sam lays beside him, stroking his hair with gentle fingers.

A few minutes pass in this fashion, until Sam starts caressing Lucifer's back, as if tracing constellations, and placing kisses on his warm skin. Lucifer hums contentedly, feeling his cock begin to stir again. Sam shifts on top of him and starts trailing feather light kisses down his spine. Lucifer thinks nothing of it, aside from it feeling nice, until Sam's hands knead and pry apart Lucifer's cheeks and the hunter sticks his tongue wetly in his hole.

Lucifer jerks away, throws a bewildered glance Sam's way, but the hunter only looks at him with a predatory smile on his lips and dives right back in. Lucifer grasps the sheets and bites the pillow to keep himself from wailing, Sam's tongue fucking him relentlessly and leaving him a whimpering mess. He's rutting like an animal on the mattress, trying to relieve himself, while Sam presses his cheeks further apart still and then sticks a finger inside him along with his tongue. This act is base, filthy. Lucifer loves it.

Sam takes pity on him and takes his cock in hand, circling his head with his thumb and then smearing pre-come on the shaft. After only two strokes, Sam's tongue still working him open, Lucifer comes, vision going white for a second, awed at this profoundly human experience.

When he comes to he's panting and Sam's back on the pillow beside him, looking at him with a smug grin on his face. He nudges Lucifer a little until the angel turns on his side and Sam can place his head on his chest, left arm and leg thrown across his waist and hip like an octopus.

Lucifer kisses him gently on the forehead and catalogues this embrace as the fifth thing on his list: warm bodies entwined, slowly dozing off to sleep.

Sam's half on top of him, his weight reassuring, when Lucifer suddenly remembers a verse from a poem he's read recently: " _Lay your sleeping head, my love, human on my faithless arm_ ," he murmurs in the dark between them and Sam tightens his grip on him, while he angel covers them with the rumpled sheets.

Sam's asleep as soon as Lucifer whispers: "Goodnight, Sammy," his only reply a mumbled "g'night," against his neck.

Lucifer doesn't know how tomorrow's fight against Amara will end, if they'll survive or be destroyed in the attempt. But those are only distant concerns now. Sam is sharing his bed, his naked limbs tangled with Lucifer's, his soft hair tickling his nose at every rise and fall of his chest.

Lucifer thinks, even if he dies tomorrow, even if for the briefest of moments, he's had this: Sam, lovely and warm in his arms. And he's known true bliss.

\---

It takes a while for Lucifer to fall asleep. As he is drifting off, Sam a warm, comforting presence by his side, Lucifer feels him stir, raise his head from where it rests on the angel's chest. He's probably still half asleep. In the dim-light of the room, illuminated only by the pale yellow glow of the bedside lamp, Sam looks younger, the lines etched on his handsome face by sorrow and pain smoothed out.

"You asked me if I was afraid."

Lucifer can barely hear him he is speaking so quietly. He tightens his arms around him, letting him know he can speak freely. Sam must sense that, because he goes on, surer than before.

"When I came to you, in the Cage... I was terrified. Not of you. Of myself." He lowers his head again, cheek pressed to Lucifer's chest, right over his heart. Sam can probably hear it beat like mad, frightened and hopeful at the same time.

It stills at Sam's next words, only to start again, even more frantic. If Lucifer had his wings, he would take flight, he is soaring so high with the joy Sam's confession brings him.

"Because there will always be a part of me that wants to say yes to you."

 

\---

When Lucifer wakes up the next morning, he knows even before opening his eyes that Sam isn't there anymore. He turns on his side, chasing the warmth of Sam's body on the sheets and burying his face in the pillow that still holds a trace of his shampoo.

The elation he's felt only hours before, safe in Sam's embrace and filled with love, slips like sand through his fingers.

So stupid, to think he could have more than a night on the eve of battle, when the blood runs hot with adrenaline and the thrill of the fight. It can't be more than a one-time deal, even if they do, by some miracle, survive the day.

Lucifer sits up, opening his eyes and stretching. When he turns to climb down the bed and pick up his scattered clothes he sees it. A small vial fastened to a silver chain sits on his bedside table, blue-white light swirling inside. His grace.

He reaches out a hand to grab it, reverently, afraid it might break under his touch. Lucifer unstoppers the vial, lets his grace flow back into him and stretches his wings. He feels like himself again, and yet not _quite_.

In that moment he notices, hidden under the glass, was a bit of parchment. He unfolds it carefully, hands trembling. After reading it, tears fall unbidden from his eyes, heart soaring.

" _If you pressed me to say why I loved him, I could say no more than because he was he, and I was I_."

 

**_"You were the only one I kneeled before. You made the warrior in me tired." - Caitlyn Siehl_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Works cited in this chapter:  
> W. H. Auden, Lullaby  
> Michel de Montaigne, Essais


	9. When I fall in love, it will be forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility.
> 
> POV Sam

* * *

**_"'Thank you,' the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride." - Ernest Hemingway_ **

 

\- Three days later -

 

They have been celebrating basically non-stop with hamburgers and apple pies - yes, there have been more than one.

Sam still can't believe that not only Dean is all in one piece, but his mom is alive. _Alive_. He can talk with her, hear her voice and see how beautiful she is on a daily basis. Bask in the knowledge that she is there to stay, for the first time in his life.

He should be overjoyed, he should burst with happiness, but something is missing. Some _one_ , more specifically.

During the battle against Amara Lucifer's grace is ripped from Nick's body. Sam worries, but in the thick of things can't stop to investigate what exactly has happened.

Once the dust has settled, Sam comes back to the warehouse to check if the body is still there, but doesn't find it. He lets himself mourn then, not because Lucifer is dead, but because he has apparently decided not to come back to them, to him. He has his powers back, after all. He doesn't need them anymore.

Sam expects Dean to mock him with an _I-told-you-so_ , instead his brother looks at him with such a look of compassion, and hugs him so tight, Sam fears for a moment he will break down in his arms. Cas touches his shoulder and shares with him a look of hopeless disappointment. His mother doesn't really understand what all the fuss is about, even though Sam is sure Dean will put her up to date in the next couple of days, but embraces him nonetheless, caring, and that more than anything else calms and comforts him.

Sam is gathering cups and plates from the war table, to carry them in the kitchen where Dean and Cas are doing the dishes, while Mary explores the Bunker, when he hears a knock on the door. He startles, a little alarmed, for he doesn't know of anyone who's aware of the location of the Bunker that would do something as mundane as knock. Rowena maybe, but he highly doubts they'll see her again, not until they need help averting the next Apocalypse at least.

He grabs one of the guns hidden under the table and makes his way up the stairs.

As soon as he steps outside and sees just who it is on the other side of the door, he drops the gun to the ground. Not very clever on his part, but the shock is too great.

Lucifer is there.

New leather jacket and... a motorbike? Where the hell did he find that? Did he drive it all the way here? But that means he hasn't used his wings... _No_. That is nonsense, to hope such a thing, and that way lays madness. Still he can't help but take him in, and notice how very... human, he looks. Shoulders a bit hunched, Lucifer is nervously shuffling his feet on the ground. An uncertain smile on his face.

"Hey, Sammy."

God, Sam loves it when he calls him that. Dean is never to know. But Lucifer says it with so much fondness, such naked longing and tenderness, it always manages to sent shivers down Sam's spine. Leave him raw and exposed.

"You came back." Sam's feet move without his consent, taking him a step closer, and then another, and another.

"I did."

"I thought you..."

Lucifer smirks, amused and indulgent, but a little sad. "Sammy, ye of little faith."

Sam stutters, trying to explain himself. "I went back to the warehouse, I couldn't find your body."

"Yeah. It took my grace a while to make its way back to Nick's body, even though... I guess I should start calling it _my_ body, wouldn't you say?" He asks, grinning and looking down at himself, as if for the first time realising it is truly his flesh and bone. He keeps talking, moving his fingers in front of his face like he is playing a tune on a piano. Stares at his hands in awe. "When I woke up I was alone. I don't know exactly how long I was out, but the world's still spinning, so I guess you managed to defeat dear old auntie?"

"Actually..." Sam chuckles. "Dean had a chat with her. Turns out she just wanted to make peace with her brother. She and Chuck are now together only God, quite literally, knows where."

Lucifer's expression darkens. "So daddy's gone again..."

"I'm sorry."

Lucifer shrugs, putting up an uncaring façade. "Figures." He looks resigned more than hurt, and that hits Sam more than anything else. How disappointed must Lucifer feel, to be ignored again by his Father, even after proving he can be a good son. But maybe Lucifer himself has learnt his lesson, and doesn't care about God's judgment anymore.

Sam doesn't feel so guilty when he tells him: "Amara's brought my mom back," a huge smile splitting his face.

Lucifer matches it with one of his own. "Sam, that's... that's amazing!"

"It is."

A companionable silence descends for a moment, until Sam asks the question that has been on the forefront of his mind since he's opened the door and found the angel on the other side. "Why are you here, Lucifer?"

"I wondered..." Lucifer stops for lack of words. He pats himself and extracts a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. He gives it to Sam. "Here."

Sam unfolds it delicately.

 _"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love _.__ ”

"I always see the worst in people. And you the best. Maybe... maybe we can look. Together." Lucifer asks as if from the answer depends his very existence.

"What... what does it mean?" Sam murmurs, dreading and craving the answer at the same time.

Lucifer moves in Sam's personal space, so close their breaths mingle. Their foreheads touch and Sam closes his eyes, breathes him in.

"I can't promise it'll be easy. There'll be times when I'd still want to destroy things, but I guess... I'll only have to choose not to. Day by day. And I'll like to do it with you."

Sam opens his eyes when he feels Lucifer back away a fraction, and watches him reach inside the collar of his shirt and... attached to a very familiar silver chain is a vial of glowing light. Sam inhales sharply, eyes wide and filled with wonder.

"This is yours, Sam. As am I. If you'll have me."

Lucifer offers the chain to him, like a promise. Sam takes it in trembling hands, like a blessing.

Puts it around his neck, feels its heat next to his heart, flooding his inside with warmth.

Lucifer's whole face glows with such joy he is positively shining, and Sam is reminded in that moment of the meaning of his name and knows deep in his core why they call him the Morning Star.

He reaches out a hand and Lucifer takes it without hesitation.

Sam smiles, dimples showing, careless and bright.

"Yes."

 

**_i carry your heart with me(i carry it in_ **

**_my heart)i am never without it(anywhere_ **

**_i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done_ **

**_by only me is your doing,my darling)_ **

**_i fear_ **

**_no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want_ **

**_no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)_ **

**_and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant_ **

**_and whatever a sun will always sing is you_ **

****

**_here is the deepest secret nobody knows_ **

**_(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_ **

**_and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows_ **

**_higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)_ **

**_and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_ **

****

**_i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)_ **

**_\- E.E. Cummings_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem quoted in this chapter is by Pablo Neruda (XVII)  
> To those who've stuck with this fic until the end I want to say thank you. Any comment will be appreciated. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it.  
> Ps: you can find me on tumblr here: http://koryuoftheriverflow.tumblr.com/


End file.
